Lyrics
|
When
|
the
|
morning
|
came
|
We
|
were
|
cleaning
|
incense
|
off
|
your
|
vinyl
|
shelf
|
'Cause
|
we
|
lost
|
track
|
of
|
time
|
again
|
Laughing
|
with
|
my
|
feet
|
in
|
your
|
lap
|
Like
|
you
|
were
|
my
|
closest
|
friend
|
"How'd
|
we
|
end
|
up
|
on
|
the
|
floor,
|
anyway?"
|
you
|
say
|
"Your
|
roommate's
|
cheap-ass
|
screw-top
|
rose,
|
that's
|
how"
|
I
|
|
Lyrics
|
see
|
you
|
every
|
day
|
now
|
And
|
I
|
chose
|
you
|
The
|
one
|
I
|
was
|
dancing
|
with
|
In
|
New
|
York,
|
no
|
shoes
|
Looked
|
up
|
at
|
the
|
sky
|
and
|
it
|
was
|
The
|
burgundy
|
on
|
my
|
t-shirt
|
When
|
you
|
splashed
|
your
|
wine
|
into
|
me
|
And
|
how
|
the
|
blood
|
rushed
|
into
|
my
|
cheek
|
So
|
scarlet,
|
|
Lyrics
|
it
|
was
|
The
|
mark
|
they
|
saw
|
on
|
my
|
collarbone
|
The
|
rust
|
that
|
grew
|
between
|
telephones
|
The
|
lips
|
I
|
used
|
to
|
call
|
home
|
So
|
scarlet,
|
it
|
was
|
maroon
|
When
|
the
|
silence
|
came
|
We
|
were
|
shakin,
|
blind
|
and
|
hazy
|
How
|
the
|
hell
|
did
|
we
|
lose
|
sight
|
of
|
us
|
again?
|
Sobbing
|
with
|
your
|
|
Lyrics
|
head
|
in
|
your
|
hands
|
Ain't
|
that
|
the
|
way
|
shit
|
always
|
ends?
|
You
|
were
|
standing
|
hollow-
|
eyed
|
in
|
the
|
hallway
|
Carnations
|
you
|
had
|
thought
|
were
|
roses,
|
that's
|
us
|
I
|
feel
|
you,
|
no
|
matter
|
what
|
The
|
rubies
|
that
|
I
|
gave
|
up
|
And
|
I
|
lost
|
you
|
The
|
one
|
I
|
was
|
dancing
|
with
|
In
|
|
Lyrics
|
New
|
York,
|
no
|
shoes
|
Looked
|
up
|
at
|
the
|
sky
|
and
|
it
|
was
|
(Maroon)
|
The
|
burgundy
|
on
|
my
|
t-shirt
|
When
|
you
|
splashed
|
your
|
wine
|
into
|
me
|
And
|
how
|
blood
|
rushed
|
into
|
my
|
cheeks
|
So
|
scarlet,
|
it
|
was
|
(Maroon)
|
The
|
mark
|
they
|
saw
|
on
|
my
|
collarbone
|
The
|
rust
|
that
|
grew
|
between
|
telephones
|
|
Lyrics
|
The
|
lips
|
I
|
used
|
to
|
call
|
home
|
So
|
scarlet,
|
it
|
was
|
maroon
|
And
|
I
|
wake
|
with
|
your
|
memory
|
over
|
me
|
That's
|
a
|
real
|
fucking
|
legacy,
|
legacy
|
(It
|
was
|
maroon)
|
And
|
I
|
wake
|
with
|
your
|
memory
|
over
|
me
|
That's
|
a
|
real
|
fucking
|
legacy
|
to
|
leave
|
The
|
burgundy
|
on
|
my
|
t-shirt
|
When
|
|
Lyrics
|
you
|
splashed
|
your
|
wine
|
into
|
me
|
And
|
how
|
the
|
blood
|
rushed
|
into
|
my
|
cheeks
|
So
|
scarlet,
|
it
|
was
|
maroon
|
The
|
mark
|
they
|
saw
|
on
|
my
|
collarbone
|
The
|
rust
|
that
|
grew
|
between
|
telephones
|
The
|
lips
|
I
|
used
|
to
|
call
|
home
|
So
|
scarlet,
|
it
|
was
|
maroon
|
It
|
was
|
maroon
|
It
|
was
|
maroon
|
|